


Archangel

by Ihateallergies



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Body Horror, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Medical Experimentation, Medical Torture, Mind Control, Non-Consensual Body Modification, Ward is helpful and only a little crazy for once, Wings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-04
Updated: 2015-02-04
Packaged: 2018-03-10 11:06:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3288020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ihateallergies/pseuds/Ihateallergies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam Wilson is captured by Hydra and experimented on. It's up to Steve, Natasha and Bucky to save him, but the question is is Sam the type you save?</p><p>After chapter one, things get way less intense so I'll summarize it in chapter two if you want to skip it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Wings](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1583678) by [astolat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/astolat/pseuds/astolat). 



> I've been mildly obsessed with the idea of one, Sam needing to be helped and two, him getting actual wings, so here's both.

Sam was woozy from whatever they injected him with. He wanted to resist, pull away from his captors, but it was all he could do to stay standing. His neck rolled awkwardly, suddenly only mostly capable of holding his head aloft. He caught sight of two things: one, a nasty spiderweb of pale new flesh where he was sure his body was once gaping and bleeding and, two, a file with his name, Wilson, Samuel T., stamped on the gray folder in small font, under the larger, all capital header, **ARCHANGEL**.

He was vaguely aware of talking. "...shot him? I specifically said not to mortally wound him because with the serum, the Chair does not take as well."

A cold dread spread through him because, as of finding James Barnes a month ago, only two chairs had been important to the group, and Sam didn't think they were taking him to the Iron Throne. He fell to his knees, unwilling to help the technicians drag him along anymore.

The doctor looked down at her patient for a long moment, then used the severe point of her glossy pumps to toe Sam in his newly healed, still tender flesh. He let out a garbled moan.

"Get up, Archangel." She commanded. He refused but said nothing. "Get up, or we will make you."

He took all he could in that last act of defiance before she called over guards. "Yes, Doctor Mason?"

"Escort Archangel to his seat." She must have seen something he did not, because she went on to say, "He is still harmless just yet. He can barely even stand."

At that, he felt leather gloved hands grip him by the arms and drag him through a door. In it was a chair that looked nothing like the one they used on the Winter Soldier. This looked like a grizzly version of a traditional massage chair, one that left his back and neck exposed as they strapped him into the leg and arm rests. Unused torso restraints hung by his knees.

A cold hand gripped his head and pulled it back from the head rest. "Open," Doctor Mason commanded.

Sam, who was a little more lucid now, turned his head away from her. Reality and adrenaline was starting to set in as a lab technician came played at his lips with a long handled mouth guard. A jab to the healing flesh on his abdomen was enough for him to open his mouth in a yell. The piece of plastic was shoved in, already perfectly fit.

As they strapped his head into the machine, Sam thought back to that moment he let Natasha and Steve into his life, and for the first time, regretted ever letting them into his apartment.

Then the pain started.

-

He came back to himself, sort of, strapped face down on a table. He could not remember how he got there, and stopped trying because all it accomplished was a buzzing headache at the base of his skull. He couldn't remember much, actually, besides how to fly, who was in charge, and his own name, Archangel.

He notice a clicking noise as shiny, pointed shoes walked towards him. A cold hand caressed his spine between his shoulders and he shivered involuntarily. "We need you awake, Archangel," she - _Doctor Mason, the Overseer_ , his mind supplied- said almost apologetically. He nodded against the vinyl covered foam of the headrest. "Even if there was a drug strong enough to keep you unconscious for any length of time, our project today requires that we be able to monitor your mental activity."

She addressed the others in the room now. "It's not like it was with the Winter Soldier and the arm we gave him. With Archangel here, we are not connecting something that used to be there, we are giving him something new. Something the human brain has never had to control, so we must make artificial nerves and neurons."

With her attention back to him now, she whispered, "The pain will be great, but so will you, and in time, you will forget."

She injected his spinal cord with a cool liquid that slowly took the ability to move away from him. A ventilator was brought in when his lungs started to fail. He waited for the Overseer to begin.

He felt everything. He felt the fire that was Doctor Mason flaying the skin from his back. He felt and heard the saw change in speed as it went from slicing flesh to slicing bone. He felt as they drilled holes into his shoulder blades and the odd deep tissue burns as they coated them with metal. He felt as the soldered something heavy to his new metallic bones. He felt as they pulled the skin tightly closed and sewed him back together.

"Take him off the drip, and call me when he can move again," he might have heard. He wasn't sure. All he was sure of was that he wanted the pain to end as soon as possible, no matter how.

What may have been minutes or may have been years passed before the screaming started. It was his voice, he realized. He had no memory of hearing it before. Movement to his arms returned next and with that came involuntary trembles and one voluntary test of the straps holding his arms down that came with a surge of a pain seemingly throughout his whole body.

There was more talking but he couldn't hear it over the sound of his own bellows. He was vaguely aware of them shaving his head, but his mind was solely focused on the fire that consumed him from within. That is, until they used that scalpel on his head.

He didn't think his screams could get any louder but they did as the scalped him from the crown of his head to where the cut him open before. The volume increased even more as they used the bones saw to cut and remove sections of his skull.

His left arm twitched of its own accord. Then his right. Then his neck seized. Then something... Something he'd never felt before twitched, and he heard chains rattle above his yell that was now a dull whisper.

"Good," the Overseer said. "You're doing well, Archangel. Think about drifting on a warm air current for me." His arms -and the something twitched again. "Good! Soon, Archangel, this will be over. And soon, you will remember none of it."


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Synopsis of Chapter 1: Sam is being dragged to a chair after being injected with the a bastard version of the super serum. This chair is unlike Bucky's because you lean forward into it like a traditional massage chair. It happens 'off screen' but they recalibrate him.
> 
> Sam, now referring to himself as Archangel, is operated on and though it is not explicitly stated, wings are attached. Then they take part of his skull off and begin to attach artificial nerves and neurons to him. The chapter ends abruptly.

"Bucky, what did you do? What the hell did you just do?!" Steve asked furiously. Well, as furious as he could whilst bleeding out on the back seat of the commandeered golf cart. He and Bucky were escaping the burning Hydra compound, with a distinct lack of Sam Wilson at their side.

"Shot Wilson," Bucky answered as if it was no big deal. He steered the cart away from oncoming Hydra agents, shooting most of them before they could even take aim.

"You shot Sam?" Steve clarified. Even though he'd seen it with his own eyes, saw Bucky pulling the trigger and Sam crumpling over in the arms of Hydra thugs, even though Bucky just admitted it, he did not want to believe.

"Yes," he said as a particularly sharp curve jarred both their wounds. Bucky's was only marginally less severe.

"Do you want to explain why you shot Sam? Did your arm malfunction?" Steve asked, grabbing at straws. Bucky was doing so well, had worked so hard for the past 8 months. Sam had worked hard with him. Steve did not want to believe it, but he was afraid that the Winter Soldier was slipping through.

"Do you wanna do this right now, Rogers?" He yelled, ducking as a bullet whizzed past his ear.

"Sam got captured by Hydra and instead of going to get him," he paused to ease pressure off of the shot in his liver, "you shot him in the gut and drove off. Yes, I wanna do this now!"

Bucky huffed angrily, as if it were a great inconvenience to explain his suddens friendly fire. "You notice how Sam came out practically unscathed from the last couple a missions?"

"What, so you shoot him to even the score?"

"No, Rogers I shoot him 'cause Hydra didn't. I shot him 'cause Hydra captured him-" he put his flesh finger to the comm in his ear. "ETA?"

"Four minutes, Southwest corner," Steve heard Natasha say over his own earpiece. "I'm not picking up any feedback from the Falcon."

"Hydra has him, and he's injured. Do you see any evacuating personnel?" Steve asked.

"Lots, just none that look like they're carrying a hostage."

"They were headed towards the North side of the building, circle back and see if you spot him."

"Negative," Bucky said as he pulled the cart to the wall they blew through to get in. "You're injured. We need to get you medical attention now."

"So's Sam, thanks to you!" He bit out as he tried to sit up.

Bucky finally snapped. "Sam was doomed from the beginning! We were sold out and outnumbered!" He pulled the Cap forcefully to his feet.

"So what? That was a mercy killing so he wouldn't be tortured?" Steve asked as he reluctantly put most of his weight on Bucky's uninjured side.

Bucky looked down at Steve, eyes going blank. "They don't bother trying to bring in people in unhurt if they're just going to torture them."

-

Grant Ward wasn't often taken by surprise. He was too good for that. He noticed the big blond man in a hoodie trailing him a mile away. He exited the train station through a side entrance, hands stuffed deep in his pockets. He could fight this man any day, he just really wasn't prepared to see Coulson or Skye at the moment.

He crossed a street and walked through a group of high school students waiting to board a bus before cutting through an alley and turning South. He cut through another alley two blocks down and jumped a fence before he was satisfied that his tail was gone, except-

"Hey, Sailor."

Grant did not let his face betray his emotions, but he was not expecting the Black Widow. He was almost certain that she didn't even know he was alive until the fall of Shield, and wouldn't work with him anyway.

He turned away from her to go back the way he came, except that that end of the alley was blocked off, not by Big Blond, but by a man with a metal arm-

Coulson sent the Black Widow and the reformed Winter Soldier after him? If the new director of Shield was trying to kill him, he just may very well succeed.

"Color me impressed. I thought Shield was working from Coulson's basement now. I had no idea he had you two under his thumb."

"No one is under his thumb, son," someone corrected. The big blond rounded the corner carry a round shield.

"Now that makes more sense. Captain America: being used by the government since 1943."

"We're not here on behalf of Coulson. He just told us to look for you," the Black Widow clarified. She was still smiling, grinning like a shark about to strike.

"Look for me, why, exactly, if not to bring me in or kill me?" He did not make for the guns he had on him, mostly because he knew they would do little good. He was as good or better than fifty Hydra men, but if his intel was correct, four of these people could take down whole bases in a matter of hours. Except he was only surrounded by three.

She looked thoughtful at the idea of killing him for a moment, but shook her head and answered his question. "We're looking for someone who was captured by Hydra. Our friend, Sam Wilson. Director Coulson said if anyone could find him, it would be you."

"You're friend is dead," Grant said with finality. "Hopefully he didn't give up too many of your secrets on the way out."

"See, that's what I thought, except my friend, Bucky here said they also took a great deal of care to bring him in unharmed. He said in his day, when he brought someone in uninjured, it wasn't so they could interrogate."

Ward considered that for a moment. "Then Bucky here knows that the man they captured is not going to be the man you find." He looked to the Winter Soldier. "He of all people should know that they have ways of making you comply."

Ward laughed at the look Rogers gave him. "That's a risk we're willing to take."

"Just a few questions. Why would I help you? Why would Coulson think I would help you?"

"Besides the fact that we could kill you easily?"

Ward shrugged. "Probably. But not before I took you down with me." He knew he couldn't do more than maim the two super soldiers, but the Black Widow, she'd die from a shot to the head just like anyone else.

Bucky sighed, making noise for the first time. "The suit was right. He can't or won't help so let's move on." He pulled a gun on Ward, who pulled one on him and Natasha.

"You're right. This was pointless. I'm afraid Shield tricked you into doing their dirty work again, Captain." Grant smirked.

"Shame. And that girl was so certain." The Black Widow said offhandedly.

Rogers narrowed his eyes. "Nat," he warned, voice low. "Coulson said don't."

"You always do what Coulson tells you to?" She asked, her smile at him a lot more friendly than it was toward Ward.

"Girl? What girl?"

"We still have another leads, Tasha, and he said this guy is insane."

"She's an agent, Cap. She knew what she was getting into."

"We still have that 'Raina'-"

"WHAT GIRL," Grant began. His hands were shaking minutely, it just so happened that three he was up against had vision and training sharp enough to spot it. He calmed himself with a deep breath and asked again, "What girl?"

The Black Widow glanced at Rogers. "About yay high," she said gesturing slightly above her head. "Of Chinese descent. Looks at Coulson like he's the best thing since the Smallpox vaccine."

"Skye?" He asked, voice low.

Natasha raised an eyebrow and shrugged. "He didn't say her name, and I didn't ask. She just barged in while we were talking and offered up your name." She noticed how he lowered his gun slightly and she continued. "She said you would help if she came, but Coulson wouldn't allow it."

Ward narrowed his eyes. "You're lying."

"If you say so. Doesn't matter really because if you pull either of those triggers, you're dead."

Grant frowned. He was being played. A big part of him knew that. A bigger part knew that there was a good chance that Skye would hear about him helping, and all of him knew he had no chance of seeing Skye again if he was dead. With a heavy breath through his nose, he lowered his weapons. "What are you looking for specifically?"


End file.
